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"And then you booted him? Why?"

Cuddy frowned. She was standing across from Wilson in his kitchen. Shouts and laughter of children could be heard from beyond the kitchen door, but right now, the mood in the kitchen was quite somber.

"I don't know," Cuddy nearly whined. "I don't know what I'm doing, James! She's my daughter. I don't want him to hurt her."

Wilson raised his eyebrows. "You honestly think he would?"

"I honestly don't know what he'd do," Cuddy's tone indicated her defeat.

"But, hurt her?" Wilson asked, unsure.

"I'm sure it wouldn't be on purpose," Cuddy replied. "It's just... she's my daughter."

"James!" Claire, a smiling dirty blonde haired woman, entered the kitchen. "You'll never guess who-" Claire looked from Wilson to Cuddy. "Something's going on."

"No, it's nothing." Cuddy shook her head.

"Never guess who what?" Wilson asked, changing the subject.

"Who arrived," Claire finished her previous thought. "Greg is here."

"Oh." Wilson drew back slightly. "That's... weird. I'll go say hello."

Wilson scooted past his wife, planting a kiss on her forehead along the way. He left the kitchen and Claire looked to Cuddy. Cuddy had her arms folded across her chest as she stared down at the floor.

"Is everything all right?" Claire asked, walking toward Cuddy.

"Not now," Cuddy answered.

Claire connected the dots. "Something happened between you and Greg."

"What would you do?" Cuddy raised her eyes to Claire. "Sarah knows about him being her father. And now, I don't know what I'm suppose to do. This was never part of the plan."

"You told her?" Claire's eyebrows drew together.

"He did," Cuddy replied.

"Of course he did." Claire gave a roll of her eyes. "I don't know, Lisa. You know him better than anyone, I guess."

"I wish I didn't," Cuddy muttered and let out a sigh. "I wish this was easier. She wants a father, but I don't know if Greg will be a good thing for her. If he didn't open his big mouth..."

"You know," Claire began, "maybe she would be good for him."

Cuddy snapped to attention. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, he's always an asshole." Claire gave a shrug. "Maybe she'll soften him up. He's quite miserable."

"He's not miserable," Cuddy told her. "He's House."

The kitchen door swung open and a young boy with blonde hair entered. He hurried across the room, a smile on his face.

"Mommy!" The boy stopped in front of his mother and then turned to the woman next to her. "Hi, Aunt Lisa. Didja get me presents?"

"John Michael," Claire scolded. "That's rude."

"But, it's my birthday, Ma!" the boy replied.

Cuddy leaned down to the child. "I brought two presents. They're both really big."

"Yay!" His brown eyes lit up. "Thanks, Aunt Lisa!"

"You're welcome, Jack." Cuddy gave him a smile.

Jack turned to his mother. "Mommy, can we eat cake?"

"Yes." Claire nodded. "Go in and tell your father. And tell him to get Olivia."

"'Kay." Jack ran from the room.

Cuddy drew in a breath. "I'm going to run to the bathroom."

"Okay," Claire replied. "Try to avoid Greg, I guess."

Cuddy nodded in response and left Claire to tend to the cake in the kitchen. Cuddy peered down the hallway toward the living room where children were gathered in a circle, playing some game. She didn't see House, so she continued on her path.

As Cuddy headed up the dark wooden staircase, she froze at the sound of her daughter.

"Mom, where ya going?"

"Bathroom," Cuddy directed to Sarah, who stared up from the bottom of the staircase. "We're doing cake soon so don't get lost."

"Okay!" Sarah replied and then hurried back into the living room.

Cuddy continued up the stairs. House, who had been stealthily waiting in the dining room, hurried past the doorway of the living room and climbed the stairs, trying not to put too much pressure on his thigh.

House ducked into the bedroom next to the bathroom and waited. As Cuddy left the bathroom and passed by the bedroom, House grabbed her arm and pulled her in. She looked around at the light purple room with the bunny border before placing her eyes on House.

"They're doing cake soon," she told him crisply.

"I'd lay off the cake if I were you," he replied. "Have you seen your backside lately?"

"Thanks." Cuddy headed for the door.

"Wait." House took her arm again.

Cuddy turned to face him. "You only came because we were here."

"Is that a problem?" House asked.

Cuddy hesitated. "No... I guess not... I just worry. I don't want you to be bad for her."

House let go of her arm. "You think I'd be bad for her?"

Cuddy took a step back and began pacing. "I don't know what I'm thinking. Sometimes I think it'll work out, but then I remember it's you and... House." She stopped and brought her eyes to him. "Greg. There's so much to this."

"I know," his voice was quiet.

"I don't want this to fail." Cuddy took a step closer to him. "She needs stability. She needs something she can trust."

House locked eyes with her. "And you can't trust me, so..."

Cuddy shook her head and stopped in front of him. "I'm sorry I accused you-"

"You wreck yourself with your guilt," House said, cutting her off.

"What?" Cuddy drew back slightly.

"You're guilty over everything," House shrugged innocently. "Introverted guilt, so no one knows it's there. But, I do. You feel guilty over my thigh, over the drugs, over Mick not having a father, over our kiss two night's ago."

"She can't get hurt," Cuddy told him.

House watched her and his volume lowered even more. "What about you?"

"I'm not the important one," Cuddy replied, her volume matching his. "She comes before me in everything."

"Hey," Wilson spoke from the doorway, causing Cuddy to take a step away from House. "Are you two... okay?"

"Oh, sorry," House apologized with his sarcasm. "Didn't realize we were in your room."

"We're waiting for you to do cake," Wilson told them.

Cuddy ignored House and began toward the door. House grabbed her arm, stopping her. He gave a nod to Wilson.

"We'll be down in a minute," House said to him.

Wilson waited, his eyes on Cuddy. She nodded and Wilson gave them both a nod. "Okay."

Once Wilson had left, Cuddy spun quickly, pulling her arm out of House's grasp "House, it's Jack's birthday. He's impatient and-"

"I don't care," House cut her off. "I care about you talking to me."

"You want to talk, House?" Cuddy asked and placed her hands on her hips. "Fine. What the hell did you think you were doing kissing me two days ago? Do you have feelings for me or are you trying to manipulate me? I can tell you one thing about it. It's not helping your case to get into Sarah's life."

"I wasn't manipulating you," House told her honestly.

"So, you have feelings for me," Cuddy clarified, not expecting anything but a snappy retort.

House softened just enough to hurt. "I've always had-"

"No!" Cuddy stepped back. "Don't say it. You need to stop doing this."

"Doing what?" House asked, lifting his arms out at his sides.

"Barging in and shaking up my life," Cuddy answered. "You're messing with everything I made for myself and for Sarah."

House stepped towards her. "We could try-"

"House." Cuddy covered her eyes with her hand.

"Do you have feelings for me?" House asked her.

"I..." Cuddy looked up at him. "I can't bring you into our lives if it's not going to work. We have to go down for cake."

Cuddy hurried to the door.

"Lisa."

That stopped her in her tracks. She gathered her composure and turned.

"Come over tonight," she said. "We'll talk. But, it has to be after eight because I don't want Sarah to know-"

"Okay." He nodded and let her go down to the party first.